


Made, not born

by chaoticlivi



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 09:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticlivi/pseuds/chaoticlivi
Summary: Canonverse. A demon mage called the Cupid, which claims to be a spirit summoned by Minotaurs, has appeared in Death City. It boasts the power to find any person’s true soulmate and tells Maka exactly what she wanted to hear. But when its reliability is cast into tremendous doubt, Maka’s doubts about whether the relationship she leapt into with Soul is really “meant to be” get the best of her as she tries desperately to out-logic her fear. Canon-typical violence, swear words, implied sexual interactions.





	Made, not born

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for clicking into my story for Resbang 2017!
> 
> And a million thank yous to my betas - thefishywitchy, piercelovewonton, awesomeasusual, and marshofsleep - for your incredible, incredible help with this story. I hope you'll see how much I changed, and all because you inspired me. In all honesty, I am so low on energy these days that I can't seem to write anything at all, but you betas did hold up a mirror that helped give me the push and the motivation to rewrite the story in a way that makes me happier.
> 
> I am happy to hear all your thoughts.

For years, their movie nights have been a carefully-maintained ritual.

Watching a film every week was originally a way to unwind together; at that point, they were so young and unfamiliar with each other that Maka had been pleasantly surprised to see Soul’s concealed enthusiasm when she suggested making it a routine. Even if they weren’t always fans of each other’s favorite movies - entertainment could be really hit-or-miss - movie nights gave them built-in chances to hang out at a time when their lives _weren’t_ at stake. They were moments to exist together, side-by-side, as humans, not weapons or meisters or agents of the DWMA.

As of the past three weeks, each movie night is also another heart-fluttering date. (So is everything else they do.)

Every single time, Maka is too nervous to act on secret wishes that she’s been nursing since she was - oh, gods, since she was fourteen. They’ve danced around the notion of _love_ , but something has come along to give them the push they’ve needed. At least, it’s the push they’ve needed to come clean about their desires for the relationship. They’re still navigating the details of intimacy.

The something that came along is called the Cupid.

 

* * *

 

 

_The night was quiet, the dinnertime hustle and bustle of Death City having given way to streets empty of all but a few furtive souls running procrastinated errands or seeking a good time on a weeknight. Maka wanted to pull her hood up over her head._

_No one could prove that the Cupid’s magic was illegitimate. While Maka needed to know a little more about the details, everything it said was consistent and made perfect sense: it had a rare ability, undiscovered by other magic-using species, that would allow it to take soul detection further and see which souls were connected for life._

_What was there to be said against it? It had moved in to Death City legally, set up its small business inside its small tent legally, and seemed to dwell peacefully among the civilians. Those who didn’t believe the Cupid’s claims could accuse it of selling snake oil, but this was Death City - also known as Death Vegas. A little bit of showmanship in exchange for cash was not illegal, especially not here._

_Maka was undecided. She knew it could all have been a big lie, but as a professional soul-perceiver herself, she also knew that souls are impossibly deep and complicated. Who was to say that there weren’t undiscovered ways to read the ones that fit together? It seemed like every year, some new kind of magic was discovered, after all. Everyone - Kid, The Grand Mabaa, Excalibur (when he could be kept on topic for more than fifteen seconds) - was unable to verify whether the Cupid’s claims were lies. Even Stein had to admit that while he personally found the idea of soulmates “absurd”, he did not have a way to prove that something he could not perceive did not exist._

_She had to see for herself if her experience would be the same._

_Maka sidled up to the door of the tent. A peek at the soul inside revealed nothing terribly unusual, at least for a magical creature; while it did have a unique appearance and wavelength, it didn’t share qualities with witches. It wasn’t a Kishin._

_That night was quiet, and closing time would be within an hour. There were no other customers._

_Inside there would dwell an intimidating demon entity - a skinny white Minotaur, who claimed to be a spirit summoned by a community of living Minotaurs in Turkey. Its eyes, otherwise black, would be filled by its heart-shaped pupils, and on its head Maka would see tall, curved horns that promised powerful magic. Maka knew from the reports of others that the Cupid had a pretty questionable sense of fashion, wearing no clothes except for a tight pair of pink pinstriped pants, but that seemed to be part of its persona._

_“Someone out there? I would welcome your business,” called the voice of the Cupid, which was a bit like rocks rubbing together, but in a friendly way._

_“Good evening,” Maka answered, poking her head in. The tent was set up like the booth of a psychic at a circus or fair, with thick fabric walls and low, warm pink light in an otherwise dark interior._

_The Cupid sat, its ungulate legs crossed, on a pillow on the floor, crystal ball in front of it. How expected._

_“What services may I offer you?” it asked. “For ten dollars, I can give you my reading of your soulmate, unique in all the world. But I have many other services as well…”_

_“I’m curious about something,” Maka said, taking out some cash from the pocket inside her jacket. “My name is Maka Albarn, and one of the skills I use the most for my service at the DWMA is Soul Perception.”_

_“Ah hah! I have heard so much about you,” the Cupid answered. “We have something in common. My abilities go farther than yours, perhaps, but certainly, we have a lot to talk about.”_

_Maka narrowed her eyes. “You’ve heard of me?”_

_“Oh, yes!” The Cupid nodded. “Who has not?”_

_Quite a few people, actually, considering that the DWMA didn’t try to publicize its agents more than they wanted to publicize themselves, but she wasn’t interested in talking about that. “Thank you. Anyway, I was wondering if I could have you read my soulmate.”_

_“Of course.” A pale, gnarled hand beckoned her over. “Ten dollars, please.”_

_As Maka approached, the Cupid seemed to loom over her, even though it was sitting and she was standing. Sitting down only made her feel more vulnerable. The deep pink hearts in its eyes, conceptually amusing, devoured all of her attention and didn’t make her one little bit giddy._

_The spellbound moment was interrupted by ten dollars leaving her hand. “One more thing,” she barely remembered to add. “I’m not sure if it’s possible, but is there any way you can show me how you do this?”_

_“Unfortunately, my friend, there’s no way to make you see what you are not able to see,” the Cupid said. “I will explain as best as I can manage, though.”_

_Maka opened her mouth to argue, but her hulking host’s gravelly voice and the deep pinkness of the room had her brain moving slowly._

_“Ahem.” Maka startled at its noise, realizing she had been staring around at the pillows and curtains. “In order to do this, we must join hands over the crystal ball,” the Cupid said. It offered its hands, palms up. They were cool to the touch and completely dwarfed Maka’s. The beast shut its own eyes. The crystal ball began to glow._

_“Now,” it said. “Soul resonance should be nothing new to you, correct? I can get on anyone’s wavelength, so what I am going to do is resonate with you. That will allow me to see the connection to your soulmate - and I can follow it all the way to discover their identity.”_

_Maka nodded. “Okay. How can you see it?”_

_The Cupid shrugged. “It is a gift. I am not completely sure how I inherited it, since I have never met another being with the same ability. But it seems to me that it is simply an advanced kind of Soul Perception, one that allows me to see ties. Maybe someday shinigami or humans will figure out how to do it.”_

_She couldn’t ask more without sounding accusatory, so she nodded again and remained silent. The Cupid’s hands warmed up when it began to resonate with her._

_Sharing a headspace - or soul space - with the Cupid was an odd, unnerving sensation. It was such an abrupt and unfamiliar thing to have in her mind, different from the way partners in battle join together in a soul space, weave mutual connections out of their willfully given thoughts and feelings. Although she felt the Cupid’s presence, she didn’t feel the emotional twinges and fragments of thoughts that she caught from Soul when she resonated with him, or with any of her other teammates, for that matter._

_“This is...unusual,” she said, trying not to shiver._

_“I can’t let my other thoughts get in there and distract me from studying your soul,” it rumbled. The room became warmer. “Now, I want you to please focus on all the people you know already.”_

_“But what if it’s someone--”_

_“Your soulmate may be someone you don’t know yet, but first, I must be attuned to your connections to the people you do know. That subdivision of your wavelength can help me find your fated connection from there.”_

_"How long has this been...fated?" Maka asked._

_"Since birth."_

_Maka could imagine how, perhaps, all of her connections could be detected together. Maybe there was a special one she was born with, but they all came from the same place in her soul. She pictured her important people, from Soul to Mama, Papa to her teammates, the staff and mentors at DWMA, all the way to Crona._

_“Ah, I see a lot. You have many very important relationships. You are very connected.”_

_Pride swelled in Maka’s chest. The feeling might have been a bit exaggerated, but it felt great, so why not enjoy it? “My friends and I are all really close.”_

_“My goodness. You have connections…” the Cupid took a deep breath. “You have so many in this town, but you also have some important ones that I can only tell go very far away, perhaps around the world.”_

_“Mama,” Maka says._

_“You have...a connection on the moon? How unusual.”_

_Crona. “It’s been a few years, but I promised that friend I’d see them again,” Maka said._

_“Yes, yes, I know,” the Cupid answered, as though placating, and it registered only dimly with Maka that it must be taking in a lot about her for it to really have already known that. “I am seeking the connection to your soulmate…”_

_Silence fell over the room again, but it was warm and comfortable. Maka didn’t know why she had thought the Cupid’s hands were cold in the first place, because she felt downright swaddled in this atmosphere._

_“Found it!” the demon hissed victoriously. It sent Maka’s heart pounding, but she stared at its face in anticipation of the answer._

_Its horns were glowing pink. They were the source of heat, more heat, anyway._

_“Your soulmate connection is very close,” it said, tightening its hands around hers. “He already lives in your home. You two have been through everything together, haven’t you?”_

_Maka could hardly breathe with her excitement. “Soul,” she finally exhaled._

_“There is your answer,” the Cupid murmured. Its horns returned to a dull, bony white. “Go claim your true love.”_

_Maka’s head spun, light enough to float away and stuffed full of thoughts. The Cupid’s hands seemed cool again._

_==_

_“You’re happy about it?” Soul asked, a look on his face that she couldn’t quite identify as anything other than ‘not bad, but strange.’_

_“Well...are you mad that I went even though we both agreed it was a waste of money?”_

_He shrugged with a head tilt, in the way he often did when he was letting up on some harsh thing he said once upon a time. “I mean, I still don’t trust that guy, or whatever it is, but what you do with your money is your business. Not here to pretend it’s mine. He could be telling the truth, I guess.”_

_“Mmhmm.” In a certain way, Maka wanted to blurt out her feelings - Yes, I’m thrilled! We’ve been validated by the universe! Hurry up and date me already!_

_“I, uh.” Soul scratched his cheek, that nervous habit. “I partly didn’t want to buy into it because I didn’t trust it completely. I think I was also a little afraid of the answer, I guess.”_

_“...Oh.” Maka wondered if her heart should be plummeting to the floor, though something told her it was too early for that. She kept it in her chest for now and avoided eye contact._

_“But hey.” Soul played the tips of his fingers against hers. “I dunno about you, but this answer, I’m happy with. It could be good,” he continued. “Right?”_

_Maka took a pointed look into his eyes, and there was that furious flush on his cheeks. Ha, retribution for all the times he’d made her go red without realizing. She finished joining their hands._

_“We should try it out,” he said, eyes scanning her face. “Getting together.”_

_“I - I would like that.” Maka looked at the ground, a silly smile blooming across her cheeks. She peered back up. “I don’t know what to do now, though. I’ve never gone out with anyone before.”_

_“A date!” Soul’s jagged smile met hers. “We should go somewhere. How about...pizza?”_

_She lifted her arms - they were heavy, she was shy, so shy - and wound them around her partner. Soul follows suit - oh, he smelled good? She hadn’t been planning on that. Anxiety about whether this is really right, whether she was falling for a trap, nagged at the back of her mind, but this was very nice, and she decided to push the fear off for now._

_Soon, she would have the courage to kiss him. Her soulmate. Of course she could kiss him! It seemed like he would want her to. But she was a little afraid. She could just settle for a good, long hug for the time being._

_Outside of her thoughts, Soul gave her a squeeze and chuckled. It was the same chest-deep sound he made when he was trying to teach her piano, and when he teased her about being a “little angel” after she sprouted her battle-ready wings._

 

* * *

 

 

Tonight’s feature is Maka’s choice, a horror flick about weapons and meisters trapped in a mansion.

It’s absolutely nothing like their real life and as far as they’re concerned, it serves as a comedy - one silver lining to getting into gritty kishin battles all the time is that media which tries to take advantage of the battle-dramas of weapons and meisters accidentally becomes far more entertaining. This show could _maybe_ be considered a “B movie,” but that would be generous.

Blair is wherever she goes when she says she’s “out”. Though they’ve come to love her company over the past five years, she does have a habit of teasing them about the Cupid’s revelations. Maka can’t deny that being alone with her partner takes some of that pressure off.

Soul always curls over Maka when she scoots close to him on the couch. He makes it slow and subtle, but it’s unmistakable because every time a movie ends he’s got his arm around her shoulders, his head leaning on hers, and his knees pointing toward her on the couch. The heat of his body is just like the heat of his eyes. Her habit of choice is to take his hand and lean on his shoulder so she can spend two hours smelling whatever it is he wears.

Mid-movie, Maka leans up and gives him a kiss on the cheek. He meets her with a kiss on the lips - soft and chaste, eyes peeking open to see her reaction afterward. Her soul does funny things inside her, and in its acrobatics, it brushes against his.

She’s overwhelmed by the seriousness of these moments, how intense it is to be this close with her partner outside of battle. She never dreamed before that anything could possibly rival their closeness when they’re in the sky together, blasting music that tears apart enemy defenses and slicing monsters in half while their hearts and thoughts beat in sync, and yet here they are - full of wonder, seeing each other anew when there is nothing around but the low light of the television.

Maka still wonders at times whether the Cupid’s powers could be for real. On the bright side, whether it is a supernatural con artist or not, it offered a push that overcame Maka’s fears about rejection and failure. Soul’s bashful smile during that moment had said everything it needed to as well; he’d been looking for an opportunity to jump into this.

Her darker thoughts remind her that she and Soul are running on pure emotion - pure _relief_ that some demon-entity of unverified origin told them they’re fated to be together. On some level, they’ve taken it as a guarantee. She has to wonder: if they both had fears about taking this step, was it a good thing to let an outsider try to magic those fears away? Is that cowardice?

She should have asked the Cupid what it means to be soulmates. Perhaps her idea isn’t the same as whatever definition might be considered “technical.” The thought that she and Soul could fail even if the Cupid is telling the truth yanks at her heart.

“This movie is so bad it’s good,” Soul mutters, grinning. He squeezes her shoulders closer against his body, and it’s all she needs to sigh her anxiety away for now.

 

* * *

 

The Death Room has changed. At Patti’s suggestion, Kid hired the witches’ help in altering it so that the sky correlates with the time of day and the weather in Death City. Admittedly, on most days, it looks like it always did - they are in a desert, where skies are usually clear, after all - but now, it is a dusky purple, because they’re here at 6:00 AM (considered, according to some toothy weapons, “the asscrack of dawn”).

Kid also always serves tea at meetings, just like his father did. Next to Maka, Soul yawns loudly, and across from them, Black Star has his face planted on the table while Tsubaki rests her chin in her hands, eyes closed. _Maybe Kid should offer something with more caffeine,_ says something in Maka’s mind that sounds an awful lot like the ghost of Joe Buttataki.

“Thank you for showing up at this hour,” Kid says, putting down a stack of paper on each side of his space at the table.

“Where’s Liz? And Patti?” Maka asks.

“Couldn’t drag them out of bed, but that’s alright - as my partners, they already know everythingh. As you could tell, I absolutely did not plan on having this meeting so early, but ah...there’s been a problem.”

A melodramatic groan escapes Soul, who Maka has on good authority had been hoping for a quick and easy meeting.

“An emergency?” Tsubaki asks, stirring her tea.

“Yes. Right here in Death City.” Kid rifles through one of the paper stacks; it contains some handwritten notes and a number of photographs. “A couple disappeared from Death Vegas Casino last night under unusual circumstances.”

“A couple of…?” Black Star asks.

“People, what else?” Kid shoots Black Star a deadpan look. “It’s not uncommon for people to get married here, then up and leave, but there was blood found in the bed they had been sharing. Quite a lot of blood. Kim traced magic in the room, but she had no idea what kind it was. Not any kind of witch we’d seen before.”

Maka’s eyes widen, clenched fist covering her heart. “Shit,” she murmurs. The victims were probably trying to celebrate, might have even been really happy, and been literally ripped apart. Next to her, Soul’s jaw drops open.

Tsubaki frowns and bites her lip. “That’s awful.”

“Oh, that sounds bad,” says Black Star. “Who were they?”

“Civilians,” Kid answers. “Melissa and Kivlin Hart. It’s unlikely that you would know who they are. They do not seem to have significant criminal histories or major health conditions.”

“What can we do?” Soul is all attention, no longer wearing the expression he used to put on at age 13 during morning classes. “Do we know for sure that they’re…?”

“While actual bodies have not been found, they are presumed dead,” Kid answers. “I have not found their soul responses anywhere in the city. So we’re left with the fact that most likely, we have a supernatural invader.”

“Okay.” Black Star brandishes his fist at the air. “So we’ve gotta go take out the trash, right? Who do I have to kill?”

“Well, that’s where it gets complicated,” Kid says, lifting his hand and pushing Black Star’s fist down. “The reason we had to meet this early was because I didn’t want our elite teams to be in the dark in case another incident happens.”

“Right,” Maka says. “We’ll be ready. I can help comb the city with Soul Perception, if you want?”

“We have a suspect already,” Kid continues. “That suspect is the demon magician who moved in not long ago.”

“The Cupid.” Maka’s blood runs cold.

“Yes.” Kid nods, a grave glint in his eye. “We can’t go making public accusations yet, but there are several points against it. The Cupid is the only magic user in the city whose abilities are not fully understood, which would align with Kim’s discovery.”

“It’s barely been in business for a month,” Soul adds. “I didn’t trust it, but this is…worse than I thought.”

“Right,” says Kid. “It is the newest majorly magical resident here and while it claims to be a benevolent spirit from a peaceful Minotaur colony near Istanbul, that story has not been corroborated. With that said, we don’t know for sure that it committed any crimes...”

“We never know anything for sure with that guy - thing - whatever it is,” Black Star says. “I say it’s about time we come out and ask. Either it’ll start a big fight and we’ll kill it or it’ll stop trying to be so mysterious.”

“I think I agree.” Maka sips a bit of her tea and discovers it’s still too hot.

“Um - hang on,” Soul says. “So this means...the Cupid is likely _lying_ about its powers?”

“It never convinced me it wasn’t,” Tsubaki says. “Didn’t you also say you thought everything it said was nonsense...?”

“I...uh. No.” Soul swallows, and Maka knows exactly what he’s thinking. “No, I never _believed_ it, obviously, but it’s different actually having some, you know, circumstantial evidence against it.”

Hearing him talk about it, Maka finally pinpoints the rather existential discomfort she’s feeling: if the Cupid is a murderer, then it is likely also a liar about its power, and the thing it told her - about Soul - all a big lie. She peeks over at - at her _soulmate_ , whose eyebrows are drawn, lips turned down.

“Let’s do some reconnaissance,” Tsubaki suggests. “The information Stein gave us about the Cupid’s process was helpful, but he said that all it kept telling him when it did his reading was that it couldn’t explain its powers to someone who couldn’t comprehend them.”

“That’s exactly what happened to me,” Maka says. Soul nudges her under the table, and when she turns, he’s shooting her a nervous look out of the corner of his eyes.

“Wait, you got a reading?” Black Star leans forward. “Dude, did you ask it to tell you your soulmate? Who’s your soulmate?”

“That’s not really the point.” Kid puts his hand up, trying to stop the conversation. “Maka reported the experience to me. We didn’t learn much new, unfortunately.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Black Star asks.

“It is a personal matter,” Kid says, shrugging.

“That’s fair.” Black Star nods.

Tsubaki is drinking deeply from her tea, but her knowing eyes are peeking between Soul and Maka over the edge of her cup.

Maka squeezes Soul’s fingers, wanting to hang on despite an annoyance with him that she can’t place. “My experience was like what Stein summarized to us. The Cupid definitely resonated with me, but it was...not as mutual as with weapons and meisters. It blocked me off from its thoughts. It only seemed to read mine.”

“Maka, what do you feel about it? Did it seem like it was lying?” Soul asks.

“There was just...no information there for me to judge,” Maka answers. “This is also embarrassing, but when I was in there, it was a little overwhelming. I couldn’t think very clearly.”

“Do you suspect your thoughts and feelings were being manipulated by magic?” Kid asks.

“Yeah, a tiny bit. Like they were exaggerated. Oh!” Maka snaps her fingers. “Like those candles Stein used on us, remember, Soul?”

“Except I’m guessing you weren’t pissed as _hell_.” Soul’s smile is small and smug. Maka shoves him with her shoulder, but it’s better than seeing him all nervous and twitchy, so she’ll take it.

“No.” She settles back in her spot. “I felt kind of...dumb.”

“Professor Stein emphasized what he called ‘confusion’ in his report about the Cupid, but I suspect he was just interpreting the same feelings a little differently.” Kid peers through the other stack of papers for a moment, then looks to Black Star. “Right. While it is tempting to approach the Cupid right away, people are starting to wake up and commute to work. I’d rather not start a fight right now. It would put civilians at more risk.”

Black Star opens his mouth to argue, then closes it again. “Yeah, you’re right,” he says.

“What we’re going to do is go out tonight, just before it usually closes up shop. I’ll say I’m just dropping in, but I will have Liz and Patti with me, and if it gets angry, you will be waiting outside.”

“Where’s Mabaa in all this?” Soul asks. “She must know something about this stuff?”

“She doesn’t know any more than I do,” Kid says. “Which is, really, another warning sign. But we promised not to try to enlist the upper-order witches in any law enforcement tasks that only affect Death City, so for now, I am only keeping her informed.” Kid opens a small notebook from the breast pocket of his jacket. “However, I will attempt to contact Kim again…she’s worse than Liz about getting up early.”

 

* * *

 

They’re allowed to rearrange their schedules slightly, returning home for a couple more hours of sleep before starting their usual daytime duties at the DWMA.

Soul follows Maka into her room - it’s her bed’s turn to be shared.

“You didn’t want to tell everyone what the Cupid said?” she asks, wishing the shyness in her own voice could be easiness instead.

“Well, like Kid said, it’s personal. Doesn’t it feel weird to you to make an announcement like that?” He seems a lot more interested in the floor than looking at Maka. “I - if - we don’t know if it’s _real_.”

“You didn’t seem to care about that before,” Maka says, acid eating into her heart. What does he mean it isn’t real? It’s real! They’re here, together, it’s real! Right...?

“No, it’s not that it would be a big deal if it was _just lying_. But now that we have evidence against it, I’m more worried than I thought I would be.”

“There are a lot of powerful beings out there,” Maka says. “We don’t know. It could be an evil murderer but also have the power to see soulmates...”

“Okay, but that’s the thing,” Soul says. “Do we really want to take advice from something like that? Maybe it has some nasty reason for using its powers. Maybe it even binds people together without their permission.”

“So...is this your way of saying you don’t really want to be with me?” Maka asks.

“No!” Soul says so loud it rattles her. “No, it’s not that at all, Maka. I’m just _worried_.” He sits on the bed and takes her hand, tugging her toward him.

“I guess I’m worried, too, but I don’t see the point in dwelling on it,” she says.

Soul peers to his side with an implication of sorts on his brow. “I mean, that’s you, though. I’m the worry-wart in this relationship, remember?”

It drags a smile out of her, and she rubs the side of her arm. “Sure. Soul, it...still kind of hurts that you didn’t want people to know about us.”

“But why right now?” he asks. “We’ve been just assuming they’ll figure it out over time. Half of ‘em have already been teasing us for like three years, you know?”

“So all the more reason to end the mystery, then!”

Soul sighs. “If you would like to tell everyone we’re, you know, official, going steady, soulmates, I don’t have a problem with that at all. I do _want_ them to know. I just felt like we were put on the spot, and I didn’t want to make our love life a big announcement while we were talking about people getting _murdered_.”

Maka leans back onto the bed, and Soul follows, lying to face her and take both of her hands in his.

“That’s fair,” she says, heaving a sigh that put Soul’s to shame.

“I’m not saying we should change,” Soul reassures. “It just makes me think, and it’s why I acted nervous when it came up during the meeting.”

“You’re right. It made me nervous, too.” Maka offers a smile that she knows is weak. “I was on board because the Cupid--” Hang on. She was going to say it _told her what she wanted to hear_ , but if it’s not true, then is that really a safe confession to make? “I just thought it made sense,” she finishes.

“Honestly? Me, too.” Soul shrugs. “It did make sense, so I went for it, too. All we can do is keep moving forward, right? I just think we should pay attention. In case we’re being used for some...creepy magical purpose.”

Maka nods, mind abuzz under a blanket of exhaustion.

“Ugh. We gotta be up again in like, two hours, though, so let’s go to sleep.”

For the past two weeks, they have been sharing a bed frequently. This morning, they hold hands as they fall asleep, but there’s still a little stiffness, a little distance, that wasn’t there before. They wiggle under the sheets in a way that makes Maka giggle with the awkwardness and go back to facing each other.

Behind closed eyelids, Maka pictures Mama and Papa, their fights - how Mama would yell and her father would whine, and then, later, Mama cried and Papa simpered.

Before that, Maka had been too young and oblivious to remember many details, but she _can_ remember laughter. Happiness. The three of them together, and her parents teasing each other - not unlike her and Soul.

No one has told her in so many words, but Maka has pretty much put together that Mama and Papa jumped into a committed relationship when they were young, and it was started by the passion and emotion of their close partnership. They were _screwed_ by that decision. Mama got pregnant, and Papa wanted to be there for his budding family, but they just plain failed.

Romantic love should, in theory, be undoable. It’s just another type of relationship; if she and Soul don’t work out, it should be possible for them to go back to being friends and work partners. Maka has seen first-hand, though, how love seems to make going backwards impossible. The flames of her mother’s vengeance toward her father may have dimmed, but they will never be able to work as partners again.

Maka peeks at her own partner. His eyes are shut, but his brows, knitted together, and the corners of his mouth, turned down, belie the calm he’d shown her earlier.

Maybe they’ve missed a step by letting someone else tell them when to start a relationship. Now it’s becoming hard to believe there’s a guarantee that what they have here, in this moment, under this blanket, is going to be permanent at all.

 

* * *

 

 

The end of the school day means Maka gets to go home. Tonight, just before closing, they will confront the Cupid, but for now, she has a few papers to grade and then - if she’s lucky - some time to herself.

“No scythe practice today?” Soul asks when she suggests heading home, tilting his head to the side.

“Nah, I think we can conserve our energy,” Maka says. “Besides...I want to call Mama. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to her.”

Soul nods. “Okay. I think I’m gonna spend some time playing. I’m working on a project.”

“Can’t wait to hear it,” Maka says, and she means it. Whenever Soul says he’s “playing” and “working on a project,” it means he’s going to lock himself in the DWMA’s sound-proof auditorium so that he can practice piano in peace without spoiling the surprise for anyone when he finally reveals the song he’s been working on.

It also prevents the neighbors from knocking on their door and asking him to please tone it down. While Soul’s music is generally well-liked, they haven’t moved into a more private home yet, and not everyone wants to listen to piano all the time. Plus, it seems to have a slight effect on some people’s wavelengths - a minor mood alteration, unsevere. It’s enough to make the neighbors want some occasional peace from it, though.

Despite the heavy stack of papers she’s holding, Maka scoots close to Soul and squeezes him in a one-armed hug. He reciprocates with both arms and leaves a little kiss on her forehead.

“Someone’s gonna see,” she says wryly.

“I told you that’s cool,” Soul answers with a half-grin, giving her forehead a gentle flick. “I’ll probably be home before the mission tonight.”

 

* * *

 

 

With age, Maka has come to realize that her relationship with her mother is a bit unconventional. When she was younger, she didn’t blame her mother for simply leaving after breaking up with Papa. Since then, Mama has kept herself occupied with missions that are either based with DWMA or are based with organizations that are allied to DWMA. She comes back to Death City once or twice a year, though.

Mama has been around the world, but she’s currently stationed in Alaska, and since Maka has gotten older, they’ve been in touch more often without Papa’s help, such as it is. Maka thinks maybe her mother had some kind of life crisis; Mama once tried to say something that sounded like an apology for not being around more often. Maka hadn’t known how to accept it, given that she never wants to believe she could make her mother feel bad in the first place.

It’s true that Mama seems a little more human now than she did when Maka was much younger. But she’s still a hero - still a source of comfort. Maka would never turn away from Mama.

Maka calls her mother more than before, because thoughts of Alaska remind Maka of the inhospitable Russian cold. She knows she’s projecting a bit, since her mother’s always been the independent sort who loves to be busy and rarely sits around moping like Papa, but Maka always imagines that in a dark and cold place, Mama must find comfort in receiving frequent phone calls.

Mama always seems happy to hear from her daughter, anyway.

“Hello?” comes her mother’s voice from the phone.

“Hi, Mama, it’s me,” Maka says.

“Honey! Hi!” The high-pitched excitement in Mama’s voice is always a reminder that she’s still young, all things considered. Almost none of Mama’s DWMA peers have eighteen-year-old kids at age thirty-six.

“Have a few minutes to talk?”

“Sure, I have...over an hour, actually. Something going on with you, Maka?”

“Well, you know there’s always something going on in Death City.” Maka, not ready to reveal all the latest drama, does her best to sound conversational. “But I really just wanted to catch up with you.”

“Ah. Well, the portal is spitting out primordial demons about twice a day. Most of them are confused and easy to kill, not fully formed yet, but occasionally it’s like one comes through with its mind all developed and we just can’t always outsmart it.”

“What?!” Maka gasps. “Is this a huge influx? What happens then?”

“Well, sometimes, they get out. Each week, we send Lord Death a count of the total monsters we’ve slain, and the ones that got away. And at least once a week, one of them gets out.”

“Oh. Well, that seems a little high, but not as bad as I was thinking,” Maka says. “I was picturing a sudden crowd of half-living monsters appearing at all the portals all the time. I have to admit, I might have missed a couple of reports lately.”

“It’s really not too bad compared to usual, pretty much in line with how it’s been for decades. It’s just disappointing because - you know. We want to stop all of them.”

“Any news on what’s causing the portals? Have the witches helped with that yet?”

“Actually, yes, but it’s still slow going. With their analysis, we’ve discovered that the portals... don’t really come from anywhere or go anywhere.”

“So why call them portals?” Maka tilts her head, as if Mama can see it through the phone.

“Because we don’t have anything better to call them. It seems like the monsters that come out of them are just pieces of magic and forces that exist in the world, and there are certain hubs of power where they pop out.”

Maka narrows her eyes. “Hey, wait a second. Mama, there was a bad murder the other night in Death City that seems like it might have been the work of a demon.”

“Oh, no,” Mama says, sounding genuinely saddened. “What happened? Anyone I know?”

“No, they were a honeymooning couple,” Maka says. “But they left behind quite a bit of blood, and we have this new, um, magician, I guess, called the Cupid. It’s started a little...soul-reading business. And we have no real record of where it came from except what it says, but until now, it just seemed like a normal psychic.”

Mama chuckles. “A normal psychic.”

Maka smiles. “You know what I mean. Mama, do you think that it could be one of the escaped demons?”

“Hmmm,” Mama says. “That would be hard to tell. They all look like half-formed goo when they first come out and take a while to assume a full form.”

“This one looks like a white Minotaur with hearts in its eyes.”

“Half the magical creatures on this planet seem to have weird eyes,” Mama says. “I don’t know. We _have_ had a few monsters with vaguely, ah, bovine features, but those are common, not just on creatures from portals.”

_“Ugh.”_

“Sorry, Honey, I just can’t know. I might be able to recognize its soul from up close, but by the time I got there, you and the folks at DWMA would probably have taken it out.”

“Hopefully. We’re supposed to go on a mission tonight to confront it. We’ll start with Kid, with Liz and Patti in weapon form of course, asking it some straightforward questions. If there’s any sign of a scuffle, Black Star and I will be waiting with Tsubaki and Soul.”

“I must say, the new Lord Death is giving this character a lot more chances than the old one would have.”

“The trouble is, we really can’t prove anything until we speak to the beast itself,” Maka answers. “We could just have people spy on the Cupid, but that would take longer. Kid really doesn’t want to assassinate anyone innocent, but he also doesn’t want civilians to get hurt.”

“I agree with him,” Mama says. “In any case, Maka, I’m sure you’ll do an incredible job.”

“Thank you, Mama.” Maka allows herself a big grin, even though Mama can’t read it through the receiver. “I didn’t only call you to talk about battle stuff, though. How are you feeling?”

“Me? Oh, you act like I’ve been sick.” Mama laughs. “I’m feeling good. Mixed feelings about Alaska, though. Everyone here is nice, and incredibly invested in their work, but it can be pretty dreary in the winter. Don’t tell anyone yet, but if it ever looks like they might not need me anymore, I might try to come back to Death City.”

“Really?! That would be great! I could see you more often,” Maka says, hoping that her phrasing doesn’t come off passive-aggressively - she really does not intend it that way - but too happy to worry about it.

“I know. It will probably be a while, still.” There is a downcast change in her mother’s tone. “But as I get older...I realize I missed out on you, and world travel starts…getting old, too.”

Not wanting Mama to spiral into guilt when it’s too late to change anything, Maka lilts her tone upward. “Well, I will wait. And I’ll hope that one day we can live in the same city again.”

“Me, too. But now, how are _you_ , Maka?”

“I’m--” She has to make a decision fast. Tell Mama about her issues, or not? “I’m pretty good. Nothing too new since we last talked. I did start taking those college-level courses at DWMA, and they have me assisting some of the professors like they promised.”

“That’s good, Honey. I’m glad they’ve organized that since I was there.”

“Soul spends some of his time in class and teaching, but he spends a lot of time in the Death Room as well.”

“That’s what your father started doing. It makes sense, if Soul wants to pursue being a Death Scythe for the rest of his life.”

“He’s, uh.” Better to just hurry up and say it. “Also, we’re still partners, but we’re dating each other now.”

“Oh, _really_ ,” Mama says. Maka can’t pretend she doesn’t enjoy the gossipy tone a little bit. She likes seeing Mama get really interested in something other than work - especially when that something is her personal life.

“The thing is - we might have found out,” Maka starts. “Well, that magician I told you about? The way we got together is a long story, but basically, it told us we were _soulmates_.”

“That seems like a lot to promise,” says Mama.

“It was, but we had a pretty convincing meeting. Anyway, with all that’s been going on, it looks like it might have been a big lie, and now...” Maka drops her voice, in case Soul walks in. “I’m afraid maybe we rushed things. We can’t really undo our relationship. I don’t want to. I just miss feeling like we’re _guaranteed_. And Soul was acting weird about it, which doesn’t make me feel any better.”

There is a silence from the other side of the phone as Mama thinks. “I’m sorry, Honey. That’s frustrating. You know, you’re not alone. I have been there…”

“I do,” Maka says. “And it’s been on my mind.”

“I know you’re smart, Maka. And careful. I don’t ever want to see you become careless. At the same time - please don’t let your parents’, ah, indiscretions make you afraid of your own future. You’re so different from me. And from your father. I don’t know Soul as well, but I believe he’s different, too.”

“I know, Mama. Thank you. I guess all there is to do is move forward from here. We’ll see how tonight goes. I’m sure you’ll hear about it soon.”

When Maka finally hangs up the phone, she feels a tenuous sense of balance. Talking to Mama always feels good, but she hasn’t chased away the doubt.

 

* * *

 

 

She’s fallen asleep by the time Soul gets home. She wakes to a hand on her shoulder.

“Psst, hey, Maka,” he says. “Are you okay? We should get going, or we won’t make it to the mission site in time.”

Weather-wise, almost every night in Death City is the same. On rare occasions that Maka considers very fortuitous, it might rain and make the ground smell like extra-strong dust.

Tonight is not one of those nights. It’s dry as a bone. It is, however, extra-windy, which makes her skirt and hair flap around in the most obnoxious manner possible. Maybe she should go back to pigtails during battle - they can get in the way, but nowhere near as much.

Maka reminds herself that there’s _not_ a guaranteed battle tonight. The Cupid might not be angry about Kid’s accusations; maybe it will be able to offer proof of its origins and an alibi for the night of the recent deaths.

The plan is for Black Star and Tsubaki to hang out in a dark alley near the tent, concealed by shadows but able to see the tent themselves. The illumination inside the tent will not be much, but it should be just enough for them to notice if there is a fight happening.

Soul and Maka will take an outdoor table at a nearby diner, appearing to be at a very late dinner date. Maka will use her soul perception to monitor changes, if there are any.

Kid, accompanied by Liz and Patti in weapon form, will walk to the Cupid’s tent and gently start prying about its history. If the Cupid gets violent, or if bystanders seem to be in danger, Maka, Soul, Black Star, and Tsubaki will leap into action to subdue it by any means necessary.

Maka leaves her Soul Perception on. It doesn’t use anywhere near the energy it used to, keeping tabs on the area immediately around her. She can see Black Star and Tsubaki exactly where they’re supposed to be. The Cupid can probably see them, too - all of them - but unless it is already very suspicious, hopefully it will think everyone is minding their own business. Soul and Maka are just getting dinner; Black Star and Tsubaki are just doing any one of the many things people go into dark alleys for.

Kid is heading over from DWMA. There he is, visible all the way from here as nothing but a shadow, hands in his pockets, Liz and Patti at his hips. In what must be an effort to appear non-threatening and casual, he makes his way rather slowly down the main road running from this business district to the school.

“Look at Kid,” says Soul, keeping his already-low voice even lower. “He looks pretty chill. You’d never know he’s actually high-strung deep down...”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Maka says, eyeballing her partner with amusement.

“Listen, Maka, we all have things in common.”

They munch on their food in relative quiet, too busy sparing glances at the tent and waiting for Kid’s arrival, but Maka accidentally kicks Soul under the table when she starts jiggling her leg nervously.

Soul kicks back, not as hard, and grinning. Maka scrunches her nose up and engages in an undignified moment of footsie before remembering they’re on a mission.

“Shh!” she tells Soul, holding a finger to her lips, as if he was saying things with his face instead of his feet.

“What do you mean, you weirdo?” Soul laughs. “Footsie is _normal_ ,” he whispers, “and that’s what we’re supposed to be doing, right?”

“He’s gonna be there any moment,” she says of Kid, who is no longer visible - his route has taken him behind some of Death City’s buildings. “You’re _distracting_ me,” she adds.

“Good.” Soul huffs, as though pertussed that she _doesn’t_ want to be distracted, but loses the mood immediately when Kid comes back into view, only a block away from the Cupid’s lair. He lingers a few times, observing other booths and shops, but finally pulls the outer curtain aside and strides in to see the Cupid.

“Moment of truth,” Maka says. “I wish we could be there and listen in.”

“Wonder how the Cupid will respond to Liz and Patti.” Soul leans back in his chair. “If it’s smart, that’ll set off warning bells.”

“Probably. But if it’s innocent, that should motivate it to tell the truth. And if it’s not, then Kid needs them so he can defeat it.”

Maka and Soul have given up the charade of looking busy with other tasks, and openly stare at the tent. Maka suspects that Black Star and Tsubaki are doing the same thing. A red-headed restaurant worker closes the front door and sticks her keys in to lock it.

“We closed ten minutes ago,” she says. “You two...don’t need anything else from inside, right?”

“Oh, no,” Maka says, looking over for a chance to give a polite smile and wave. “We’ll toss our stuff in the bin over there.”

“Thank you. Have a nice night, then.”

“The Cupid disappeared,” Kid says from the side of the table facing the tent. Maka gets whiplash from turning her head back while Soul leaps about six inches into the air.

“Shit, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry. You were both talking to the waitress.”

“Where’d it go?” Maka asks, feeling her voice get a bit frantic. “Did you see where it went?”

“Absolutely no idea,” Liz answers, the ultimate deadpan, from her weapon form. She and Patti pop back into human form next to Kid.

Black Star, with Tsubaki in her weapon form, slips past the now-darkened restaurant and joins the group by the table. “I started off by asking general questions, and it seemed to be answering easily,” Kid says. “But I asked a few things about the area it claims it came from, even a few things about the magic out there - and it had no idea what to say. When I finally came out and told it that we had reason to suspect it in a crime, it outright vanished, and I cannot for the life of me find its soul response again.”

“Maybe a group resonance will boost us enough to find it?” Soul offers.

“A solid plan,” Kid says. “Everyone, here, now.” He extends his hands, taking Maka’s on one side and Black Star’s on the other. “Maka’s soul perception is the strongest here, so let’s all concentrate on her. Soul, use that spider web and piano combo to comb every soul in the city.”

Maka is almost overwhelmed by the power of everyone’s concentration focused on her soul perception. She can practically hear Black Star and Patti chanting “find the bastard” in her head. Through the noise of seven souls, though, Maka finds Soul’s piano and follows the strings everywhere.

There is nothing she recognizes. Thousands of civilians - humans, witches, and magical creatures, sure. She can even see Excalibur’s soul out there in the masses. But nothing that looks like the Cupid.

“Either it’s amazingly well-disguised or it’s completely gone from the city,” Maka says, defeated. “In any case, I can’t find it at all.”

“Hmm.” Kid hums, thoughtfully. “This...this is a bust.”

“Maybe if we just hang around, it’ll come back?” Patti suggests.

“Noooo.” Liz’s shoulders sag. “We could be here the whole entire night. It’s almost midnight already.”

“I have a different idea,” Kid says. “Everyone, return home and get some sleep. Report back to the Death Room at 6:00 in the morning again tomorrow.”

“What if something happens while we’re asleep?” Maka asks.

“Ahah. Shinigami don’t really need consistent sleep. I will stay up at the Gallows and keep watch for any violence with my Soul Perception. Trust me, you will be notified if anything happens.”

 

* * *

 

After they’ve both gone through the bedtime motions - face-washing, tooth-brushing, Maka removing the clips from her hair, changing into pants and a skirt, respectively, that will be comfortable for sleeping in case they have to leap out of bed for a late-night battle - Maka follows Soul into his bedroom.

“Yo, sleepyhead,” he says, and Maka - who is feeling quite awake right now, thanks very much - takes a moment to realize he’s referring all the way back to her impromptu nap this afternoon. “Did you get to talk to your mom?”

“Yeah, I did,” Maka answers happily. “We had a good talk. You remember when I told you about the portal she’s helping to guard, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, you had your eyes closed…”

Soul pokes his tongue out from between his teeth in a half-hearted raspberry. “I do that when I’m _thinking_.”

“Well, anyway, I’m wondering if maybe the Cupid could have come out of one of those portals.”

Soul leans back against his pillow. “Yeah, it seems like a possibility. Do you see any sign that it did?”

“Nothing specific.” Maka draws both her legs up onto the bed, so she’s sitting cross-legged.

“It’s possible. But madness makes all kinds of weird shit pop up everywhere for whatever reason it feels like and there’s no portal near here, so...I dunno.”

“Yeah. Just something to look into when we catch it. If we catch it.” Maka fiddles with the hem of her skirt. “I talked to Mama a bit about _us_ , too.”

“Oh.” Soul’s eyes are wide, more white than usual. “What, uh, did you guys talk about?”

“Just...general stuff. She didn’t know we were dating. And it’s a long story, but I pretty much told her I was feeling bad about being told we’re soulmates and then finding out we’re probably not.”

“Hey, um, wait a minute.” Soul sits up again. “We think the Cupid is lying. It doesn’t mean we’re not…”

His trailing words tell her everything she needed to know.

Maka’s jaw drops for a moment. “You really do believe in soulmates.”

“I don’t know! Well, _you_ believe in them,” Soul answers. It’s absolutely delightful how red he’s getting.

“I believed what the Cupid told me because it seemed knowledgeable. If you’d asked me before then, I wouldn’t have known what to believe.” Maka puts her hand on Soul’s leg, the closest part of him that she can touch.

“I don’t know _what_ I believe about that stuff,” Soul says. “But like, really _listen_. I...got a little scared when you assumed I wanted to split up with you because I was worried about the Cupid lying. I didn’t want us to get used. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you.”

Maka brings one hand to her heart, and leans over to take his hand with her other. “Thank you. I like being with you, too.” She takes a deep breath. “I watched my parents fall apart after saying these same things and more to each other, though. I can’t help but be afraid sometimes.”

Soul scoots close, putting his arm around her, and when she leans into his side, they fall to the bed, which smells so much like Soul’s laundry soap she wants to drown in it. She presses her face to Soul’s chest instead. “You can be afraid. But let’s not make the Cupid’s opinion matter anymore. I think we should follow our own path, whether it was telling the truth or not.”

“There’s no guarantee that way,” Maka says, muttering more to herself.

Soul runs his finger along the underside of her chin, encouraging her - but not forcing her - to look up. “True, but when have we ever had guarantees?” he asks. She does look up, then, reluctant to leave the comfort of his embrace, but needing eye contact. And maybe some other kinds of contact. "We risk our lives all the time. We can be in this fight together, too."

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” Maka says, lips only inches from his.

“So have you. We kinda skipped that part the first time around, didn’t we?”

He leans down to kiss her, brushes his lips against hers with the softness she’s used to. Her answering kiss is harder, more fierce than she’s ever allowed herself before. It’s a whole-body kiss, really, the way she presses herself into him and winds her leg around his.  
  
“Holy shit,” Soul mutters. “That...tha’s good.”   
  
“You like it?” Maka asks, her head spinning, intoxicated on this new closeness. She’d imagined being devoured by the fog of this kind of intimacy, but instead, she’s _flying_ on it.   
  
Soul blinks rather slowly, and she suspects that he, too, is teetering just on the edge of being overwhelmed. “I love it. As long as you’re good--?”   
  
“I’m ready to go farther,” she whispers. “If you are.”   
  
“Let’s take it a little slow. But not _too_ slow,” he says, a feisty grin lifting the corners of his mouth unevenly. He runs his fingers along her jawline again.   
  
Maka laughs, partly at his expression and partly out of relief. He shuts her up gently by kissing her. She doesn’t come up for breath; she deepens it and deepens it, pulling him close. Maka runs her hand with a feather-light touch over the hem of Soul’s pants.

She hums the question - _Hm?_ He nods a _yes_ , barely detaching from her lips long enough to do it. And she touches her partner in places where she has never touched him before - exploratory caressing. Soul follows her lead, hands tentative at first, gaining confidence when she whispers her approval in his ear.

They don’t go all the way, not yet. But so intertwined are their bodies, so intimate is their touching, that she thinks of it as a kind of lovemaking.

 _Love. I love you._ It’s on the tip of her tongue. That must be what he’s feeling, too, if her soul perception is functioning at all properly right now. Just from knowing her soul so well, he can probably detect it in her.

The room shakes, and they jerk apart. Maka’s vision is almost hazy, but she does notice...a familiar white shape in the low light.

“Move it,” Maka says, grabbing Soul’s body and rolling the two of them to the floor with a bone-bruising crash.

“Ow, _shit_ , what was _that_ \--”

 _Thunk! Rrrrrip!_ There’s a massive bull towering over the two of them, its horns buried in Soul’s bed. The Cupid tears its head loose of fabric, foam, and springs.

“Pity, I missed,” it says. Its casual tone clashes with the gravelly quality of its voice.

Maka is on her feet in a flash, Soul in her hands as naturally as if he were part of her. Her blood warms, then boils as she makes eye contact with the demon. “You’re trying to kill us now?!”

“Where the hell did you come from?!” Soul asks.

“Everywhere and nowhere.” The Cupid laughs. “What does it matter? You’ll believe whatever I tell you, anyway.”

Maka slashes at the monster. “Murderer!” The Cupid hops backward, the powerful legs of a bull carrying it all the way to the other side of the room.

“I don’t understand,” she says, in hot pursuit. “Why would you come live here, make a life for yourself, and throw it all away by killing a couple of people who are just - just trying to be happy?!”

“Well, if you _must_ know,” The Cupid chuckles, with a roll of its pink-hearted eyes, “The energy of love feeds my magic. But if I can devour a couple during the emotional rush of a lovemaking _act_...it will add another twenty-seven years to my life.”

“Is there nothing else--” Maka swings Soul again, grazing the Cupid’s skin to no avail “--you can do to live?!”

“I prefer it this way. It’s a lot of power at once...it’s easy...but mostly...it is enjoyable.” The beast practically purrs.

Maka swings Soul’s blade with all the intensity of her hatred. The Cupid dashes aside.

“You’re an asshole,” Maka says.

“You’re gullible,” the Cupid sneers in a voice like a rock tumbler. It disappears.

“Shit, where’d it go? Where’d it go?” Soul asks.

“Hmmm...I can’t sense its soul,” Maka says. She closes her eyes, stands very still for almost a whole minute - and she senses a whisper of _something_ in the air.

“Leave the room,” Soul says suddenly. Needing no other direction, Maka runs for the door. A pink light crackles above the bed - first a pinpoint, then a burst that has the apartment smelling like smoke.

“Missed us again,” Maka pants, rounding the corner to the kitchen before almost goring herself on a pair of massive white horns.

“Maka!” comes Soul’s distressed call.

She skids to a stop, falling on her back in front of the monster.

“You know, it wouldn’t benefit me to eat you now. Your heart is all contaminated in fear,” the Cupid rumbles. “But why leave you alive to tell the tale? I need to move on, after all.”

Maka aims her foot right at the flat spot between the creature’s eyes and leverages herself up with the force of her kick. Belatedly, it shakes its head.

“What makes you think you’re getting out of this alive?” she asks, slashing once again. She hits it this time, causing unnatural red goo to spill out of its arm. Whatever it is, it’s not quite normal blood, and the cut patches itself up quickly. Self-healing.

“Enough of this!” the Cupid roars, holding its gnarled hand out, horns glowing. The room takes on a cloudy, pink, smoky atmosphere. It is...familiar.

“Hey, Maka? You feeling kinda weird? Because I feel strange,” Soul says. The Cupid is hunching over, aiming its horns toward Maka again, getting ready to launch itself toward her.

“Y-yeah,” she says, dodging out of the way. “This is what it was like in the, uh, the tent. Try not to pay attention. Magic.”

The beast is rounding on them again. Instead of bringing the scythe all the way back around, she smacks the Cupid in the face, and it stumbles. Finally.

Maka dashes toward their foe, arcing Soul’s scythe blade down, until it embeds in the beast’s forehead. The Cupid pulls back from it, but the wound doesn’t heal this time.

“Soul - Soul Resonance!” Maka says, and just like that, Soul’s blade swells. He glows brighter than the Cupid’s horns or the sinister light in the room.

“You people are so gullible,” it taunts.

 _I think there’s fear in its voice_ , Soul conveys through the resonance. Maka is inclined to agree.

"I sold you pure bullshit," continues the Cupid. "You two suckers. You know what? You tell people they're meant to be and they just...jump right on that hormonal nonsense. I drugged your city. Your city fueled me, and the hearts of the people... _fed_ me."

Maka shakes her head, choosing to ignore the Cupid's rant. From Soul's scythe swells a furious tune to fill up the room. "Just hurry up and die," she says, burying the blade in the creature's chest.

"You missed," it sneers, rolling off the blade. Its injury, though, tells a different story - it is another gushing, non-healing wound, and the beast collapses, hunching over, horns brushing against the ground. The Cupid tries to laugh, and coughs up blood.

"You want to know what I am?" it asks, voice crackling like pebbles being stepped on. But before Maka can respond, it says, "Ahahahah...too bad." The Cupid's body fades, leaving only a soul in the spot where it was clutching - the spot where its heart would have been.

Soul materializes back out of his weapon form, crackling into place looking thoroughly disheveled - it's hard to tell whether from the fight or from their activities beforehand. Maka has just collapsed into his arms when she hears a voice from the window.

"Maka! Soul! What the hell!" Liz is shouting from her weapon form. Kid hovers outside, and Patti is climbing through their window.

"I'm pretty sure Black Star's gonna show up sometime soon," groans Soul.

"You didn't save any of this fight for me?" Black Star demands, climbing through the window right on cue.

 

* * *

 

 

The Death Room again. More relaxed this time. Black Star, Tsubaki, Liz, and Patti are all tuckered out; Maka and Soul wanted answers right away when the morning came along.

"Do you really need a scalpel to do research on that soul?" Kid asks Stein, skeptical.

"No," Stein answers, holding the Cupid's soul up to examine it from the bottom, brandishing a scalpel in the other hand. "But it helps put me in the mood."

Maka and Soul yawn, enjoying their tea and a day off from most of their work duties. "Did you find anything interesting there, Professor?" Maka asks.

Stein shrugs. "Whatever this thing is, it's going to take a while to decipher. I can tell you that it was a master of disguise. It doesn't seem to use the same kind of Soul Protect as witches to disappear. Frankly, what I am wondering is whether it is able to disperse its soul into tiny, undetectable fragments, perhaps."

"Any idea whether it could have come from one of the portals? Like the one Mama is guarding?" Maka asks.

"Hmm...not yet. I haven't found any markers unique to those creatures yet. This may be the one to crack the code, though."

"Oh! I do have some news on that," Kid says. "Your mother and the witches that are stationed with her have a new theory that the portals are fueled by the people who live in this world. It's not very specific and we're still working on it, but if it's true, then the Cupid could have been some perverted notion of love powered by real, living thoughts. And feelings. And madness."

"...That would sort of make sense," Soul says. "I like that theory, even though it's creepy."

"You know, Maka," Stein adds. His glasses glint, like they always do when he's looking sideways at someone he's about to drag into some plan. "I might be more of a technician, but you're a Soul Perception expert. Maybe you should be helping with this."

"I need a day," Maka pleads. "It's been a long while."

Stein chuckles. "Of course. You had a rough night."

Maka leans her head against Soul's shoulder.

On the way home, they hold hands. She does love him, it’s true. And it’s an honest love, based on her knowledge of all his secrets.

She loves his sharp teeth, the depth of his eyes. She loves how he doesn’t like to _talk_ about his feelings, but he’ll act them out, bringing her a blanket when he thinks she needs one, approaching with a question on his brow when he wants closeness. She loves his music.

But there are other things, too. Respect - it goes both ways. And the choice to carry on together.

She still feels twitterpated sometimes. When he gives her a wonderful gift, or when he suggests going on a date, or when he gives her that flirtatious look. And yet the realization that emotion is not _all_ there is - that this is a choice they made, _together_ , just like all the ones before and all the ones that will come later - fills her with certainty, quells the doubt that love alone cannot relieve. They treat each other well, they want each other, they trust each other. Even if there will be struggles in the future - even if they eventually fail, or _die_ \- each time they fall asleep together, they have made the right decision.

There aren't guarantees, no. But there are decisions. And there is trust. What she lost in her fleeting belief in fate she found in her belief that some things - like the music between Soul and Maka, like soulmates - are made, not born.


End file.
